


What Have They Done To You Now

by Louffox



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cuddles, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Mystery, Oneshot, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, but barely, everything is as screwy as usual, post-ep 39, they're okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A canonically-vague short I wrote right after The Woman from Italy and never got around to posting.</p><p>Cecil comes home to his worried scientist boyfriend after an especially rough day at work. Neither of them are sure how much more of this they can take, but they know they have to keep on keeping on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have They Done To You Now

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to jump my writing engines by posting some of my old, sort of finished work. This episode was a while ago, but I thought I might as well put this up anyways.

Carlos looked up as Cecil came in the door with a frown. Cecil coming home, frowning, was unusual, but not unheard of. However, he hadn’t texted him to say he was on his way home, and hadn’t texted during the weather- one or the other occurring wasn’t unheard of, but both? This had never happened before.

Come to think of it, in the past few weeks, getting home with a frown, not texting during the weather, or not texting before coming home were getting more and more common.

“Cecil? Are… are you alright?” Carlos asked cautiously, standing slowly. He had a strange sense- like when he’d first come face-to-face with a horse (he was terrified of horses) and felt compelled to move slowly, each motion cautious and slow and designed to not startle. But Cecil wasn’t something to be afraid of. Cecil was… _Cecil_. And yet.

“Mmmm,” Cecil replied, a noise that could be interpreted as either affirmative or negative with ease. He noted that he wasn’t making eye contact. It was actually hard to see his eyes behind his glasses.

Carlos walked over cautiously. “I heard today’s show.” It was a rather redundant statement- he always heard the show. He had a special alarm on his phone to tell him to turn on his radio.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Who… do you know anything about… that woman, the one from Italy who visited town today?” he asked, keeping his voice low and calm.

“Who?”

“The… the woman from italy. She went window shopping and ordered a second coffee, and left town on a scooter she bought.”

“Are you talking about _my_ show?” Cecil asked distractedly, walking into the kitchen. Carlos followed him.

“Yes, of course.”

He didn’t answer for a long few moments as he got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water and leaned on the counter to take a few long sips.

“Did you hear me? Cecil?”

“Yeah. I just… I…” he blinked, and set the glass beside himself on the counter, brow starting to furrow with confusion.

“Cecil. You’re starting to scare me,” Carlos said gently, approaching to stand directly in front of him, and removed his glasses carefully.

Behind the shiny clean lenses and dark purple frames, Cecil’s eyes were an absolute mess.

Red-rimmed, slightly swollen, the whites hardly visible from all the burst capillaries. His pupils were pinpricks, barely there in the crystalline violet of his irises. The skin around his eyes looked dry and red and chafed.

“Oh, Cecil,” Carlos sighed, reaching up to caress his cheek gently. “What did they do to you?” The _this time_ hung in the air, unspoken.

Cecil wouldn’t meet his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and over near Carlos’s ear and down at his shoes.

“ _They_?”

“You know who I mean,” Carlos said sharply, letting go of his face and stepping back. “Come on. You should lie down on the couch, take a nap. I’ll have supper ready when you wake up.”

“Carlos, I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about Strex fucking with you so bad that you come home looking like you’ve had your eyes sandblasted, or have been staring into the sun for hours, or crying for a week without stopping!” Carlos exclaimed, shaking his head with frustration, ignoring the moisture that spattered from his own eyes.

“Strex is an efficient, sufficient, proficient corporation. Everything is perfectly safe and good,” he said, deadpan, eyes falling shut for long seconds longer than a standard blink. Carlos couldn’t tell if it was fatigue or defeat that caused them to close.

“Cecil, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Who is the woman from Italy?”

“I… I can’t, Carlos, I’m sorry, but I-I-I can’t.” Cecil, **the Voice** of Night Vale, was stuttering. Carlos had never known him to stutter- to say foolish things, maybe, and blush bright purple, but never stutter.

Carlos wordlessly took his hand and led him over to the couch, pushing him to sit and then gesturing for him to lie down. He took off his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, and got a throw pillow to put under his head. His boyfriend already had his eyes shut.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, kneeling beside him.

“M’throat hurts,” he mumbled. Carlos thought of the strange rasping voice that had intermittently interrupted the broadcast and nodded.

“Do you think you could eat anything?”

He shrugged, wrapping his long arms around the pillow and curling up. Carlos took it as affirmative and went to the fridge. The house must’ve sensed how messed up Cecil was feeling, as the fridge opened without any of the usual moaning or sighing. Carlos grabbed some strawberry yogurt and a spoon and went back to the couch.

“Can you sit up? I don’t want you to choke.” Cecil pushed himself to sit up, agonizingly slowly, and took the yogurt. He ate in small bites, waiting a long time between each, eyes dull and still red. When he was done, Carlos tucked him back in. His eyes closed almost immediately, and his breathing slowed to a sleeping rate.

Carlos sat on the floor by the couch, watching him for a long time before he, too, dozed off. They would be okay. They _would_ be okay.

But just in case, maybe he’d invest in a bloodstone and read up on bloodstone circle prayer.

 


End file.
